


Waves

by Anonymous



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Possible Continuation, Titanic References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 18:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17627321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Race is headed to America only to find that his hopes and dreams might have been on the ship all along





	Waves

The city was bustling with excitement, hoards of people swarming back and forth. There was hardly a blank space to be seen, but Race took every bump and push with a smile. He was headed to America, a land of hopes and dreams. 

Glancing from his ticket to the ship, Race let out a contented sigh, readjusting the bag slung across his shoulder. Months of work and saving, it was finally time to take hold of his life, a new adventure. Shuffling into line, Race admired all that was around him. The ship was larger than life and Race wondered if living on it forever could be possible. 

It was ages before it was finally Race’s turn and he dealt with the health inspection, standing as tall as he could. The stronger he looked, the better. It seemed to prove some worth as he was ushered through and before long, he was sauntering down the hallways, searching for his room. 

“427,” Race mumbled to himself, counting the numbers until he reached the fateful door. 

Pushing it open, Race was surprised to see two other boys around his age there. One had an eyepatch, the other a mop of curly hair. They regarded him once over before small smiles broke on their faces. 

“Was hoping we might have company,” the one with the eyepatch spoke first, walking over to Race with an open hand. 

The two shook hands and the curly-haired boy followed suite. “I’m Mush, this is Blink.”

“Race. Or Racetrack. I answer to either.” Throwing his bag onto an open bed, Race made himself at home while the other boys sat down. 

“First trip to America?” Blink asked and Race nodded. 

“Figured it was time to set out on my own.”

“Us too,” Mush smiled. “We’ve heard wonderful stories, hope to head out west if we can manage.”

Already, Race was finding a sense of comfort in the two boys. They chattered on excitedly about just what they were going to do once they reached American shores, so sure and confident with what laid ahead. Soon, the three were laughing and joking as if they had always been friends and Race hoped he would be able to share in their future. 

As the sun began to set, the three boys headed up to the deck, breathing in the sea air as the ship charged ahead. Race had felt small in the city, but here, he was bigger than the sky before him. 

“Just a few days now,” Blink grinned, his arms wrapping around both Race’s and Mush’s shoulders. 

Race couldn’t help press into the embrace, matching the smiles of his newfound friends’. For now the sea was their home, their lives changing with each passing second.

~

“Do you reckon New York is really as beautiful as they say?” Mush asked as he sat next to Race, counting his marbles. 

Race looked up, stopping his card shuffling and leaning back a little. “Why not? Even if it’s not, it’s fun to pretend.”

Mush laughed a little at this, rolling a marble around in his hand. Despite his concentration, his eyes looked far away and Race stared at Mush a moment more before going back to his shuffling. The sun was high, but it wasn’t hot. The water around them provided a pleasant breeze and the two boys were left to their own interests amongst those who passed through. 

“Whatcha playing?”

Race squinted up at the unfamiliar voice and shook his head. “Dunno. Anything.”

A boy sat down across from him, forearms resting on his knees. “Let’s play then.”

Sparing a glance at Mush, Race shrugged, dealing out the cards. Mush was still checking over his marbles, but Race could see his eyes flicker towards them on occasion. 

“You know poker?” Race asked as he set the deck between him and the new boy.

“Sure. I don’t got any money though.”

“Me either,” Race chewed on his lip. “At least, not enough to throw it away on a poker game.”

The two stared at their cards, Race waiting for the other boy to suggest something first. He had a pair, a potential to get a straight, but he didn’t want to be overzealous. For all he knew, this boy could’ve been dealt a royal flush and then Race would be in the doghouse.

“What’s your name?” Race asked to break the stalemate and the boy looked up from his cards.

“Spot. Yours?”

“Race.”

The two nodded at each other before they took to looking at their cards again. 

“How’s this?” Spot began, plucking out a card and laying it facedown. “Loser owes the winner a favor.”

Race raised an eyebrow at this and he mimicked Spot’s action, setting down one card as well. “What do you mean by favor?”

Spot tapped his knee with his fingers. “Maybe sneaking desserts from the kitchens, bribing the maids for extra things, you know.”

Holding back the urge to roll his eyes, Race took a deep breath in. At the very least, this Spot hadn’t asked him to jump off the boat so that had to count for something. 

“All right.”

The two took their new cards and Race rolled his tongue around in his mouth. Still one pair. 

“One,” Race shook his head, throwing his cards down. 

Spot’s eyes lit up, though the rest of his face didn’t share the same sentiment and he threw down three of a kind. 

Race sighed, guessing as much would happen but Spot picked up his deck, shuffling it much to Race’s chagrin.

“Two out of three,” Spot challenged and Race perked up at this. 

Now this was more to his liking and he grabbed the dealt cards with fervor, ready to beat Spot once and for all. 

~

Blink laughed at the whole situation, which did nothing to calm Race’s hot head. 

“He’ll get me thrown into the brig or something,” Race bemoaned, falling onto one of the lower bunks. “I’m too dumb for my own good.”

“He might forget,” Mush tried to comfort.

Blink snorted which then turned into a sharp hiss when Mush elbowed him.

“What? You think he’ll get lost on this ship?” Race scoffed. “He’s third class, Mush. Probably just down the hall.”

The two friends were silent, but Race guessed what was on their minds. It had been his own fault, his greediness getting the best of him. Two games turned into five and then ten, Spot winning by a landslide. Race’s cheeks had become hot and he blamed the sun rather than the look of joy on Spot’s face.

It was then a knock on their door pulled everyone’s attention away and Race’s stomach dropped. Blink rushed over to open it, revealing Spot, his hand raised to knock again. 

“Race,” Spot nodded and turned, leaving an empty space.

Inhaling sharply through his nose, Race grabbed his hat, tugging it on before trailing out into the hall. The door closed behind him with a click and Race had half a mind to go back in the room. 

“Walk with me,” Spot motioned. 

If this was the favor Spot was cashing in on, it was an odd one at that. Race shoved his hands in his pockets, trailing just behind Spot as they made their way to the upper decks. 

“What are your plans for America?” Spot asked as they walked along an open hallway. 

Race shook his head. “Don’t really have one. Just seeing where the days take me.”

Spot smiled a little, his gaze tugging towards the setting sun every so often. “Sounds like a beautiful path.”

“Didn’t expect poetry from you,” Race teased and he was sure Spot’s face reddened a little. 

“I’m just full of surprises.”

Despite the sarcasm dripping off the words, Race knew Spot meant no malice. In fact, it was refreshing to have someone that could joke in such a dry way. 

“What about you?” Race prodded, the two stopping along a railing. 

It was then Spot swallowed visibly and Race worried he had said the wrong thing. 

“I hope to do the same.”

“Why hope?”

Spot turned to Race, a new seriousness in his eyes. It was a calm storm and Race took a small step back. 

“I’m...I ain’t a good person, Race. Everywhere I go, my past follows me and I just pray to God that I’ll be left alone in America.”

Such a deep confession was comparable to blows to the stomach. Race couldn’t imagine Spot doing unthinkable evils even if they had known each other for a day at most. They were practically children still. Eighteen didn’t feel much like adulthood. 

“You ain’t bad,” Race found himself reaching out. “Whatever you did, I’m sure you had your reasons.”

When his hand landed on Spot’s arm, Race couldn’t help notice the way Spot stiffened. He pulled his hand back, but Spot looked almost offended at the loss of Race’s touch. Race took to staring at his feet, his words of comfort discordant in his mind.

“I hope you’re right.” Spot’s voice was barely heard above the crashing waves. 

Spot began walking again and Race followed in silence, staring at Spot’s back. He almost wished Spot hadn’t said anything as a new weight pressed heavy on Race’s shoulders. Spot’s emotions weren’t his responsibility and yet, Race found himself wanting to help. If he was walking into the hands of danger, then that was his choice. 

Eventually, the two found themselves back at Race’s cabin and Spot cleared his throat. 

“I’ll stop by tomorrow,” Spot said, a statement more than a question. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” Race put on his best grin, a surge of pride rushing through him when Spot managed half a smile back. 

The two didn’t say goodbye, but it was as if it wasn’t needed and Race went into the room, the grin still plastered on his face. 

“Racey’s got a new friend,” Blink teased from his bunk, but before Race could retort, Mush had already jumped into action, his pillow smacking Blink in the face. 

~

True to his word, Spot had stopped by and Race scrambled out of the room after him. 

“Why can’t you wait?” Race jammed his hat onto his head before picking up Spot’s gait.

“You’ll catch up.”

Race rolled his eyes, letting Spot go up the stairs first. “What if I couldn’t? What if I had a weak body or something?”

“You don’t.”

A huff left Race but he said nothing, stewing a little as he stared at Spot’s neck. The skin there looked soft enough to touch and Race was tempted to do so. Yet, before he could, he ran right into Spot, not realizing he had come to a stop. 

Spot merely looked up and down Race before beginning on his trek again and Race stumbled after him. 

“Where’re we going?” Race asked, not expecting an answer. 

He just wanted Spot to talk some more, but when he received a grunt as a reply, Race clamped his mouth shut. Soon, the two were near the steering room and Race furrowed his brows. Spot had gone down on his knees, his hand outstretched as if beckoning. 

From behind a few boxes, an orange tabby cat came out, meowing as it scampered over to Spot. 

“It’s the captain’s cat, but he said I could come visit her,” Spot picked the cat up before standing. 

Race was full of questions, but he scratched the cat on her head first. 

“He calls her Alice, but I prefer Cora.”

“You can’t just rename the cat ‘cause you don’t like her name,” Race frowned. “She’s not yours anyhow.”

Spot remained silent, but Race could see the pout in Spot’s face. 

“Aw, don’t be so sour,” Race poked Spot’s side, eyebrows shooting up when Spot squeaked. “Looks like I got a mouse on my hands,” Race grinned.

Spot’s nostrils flared, his mouth in a thin line. Race was surprised Spot hadn’t squeezed the life out of the cat and he pried her from Spot’s grip. 

“And she’s my new mouser, ain’tcha?” Race spoke to the cat. He watched Spot out of the corner of his eye, holding back his laughter when Spot crossed his arms. 

“I ain’t a mouse and she can’t catch me,” Spot mumbled. 

“No, but I did,” Race spoke without thinking. 

Immediately, Race’s heart dropped to his stomach. He had meant that in a friendly way, he was sure, but that didn’t explain his racing pulse, the widening eyes of Spot. They were practically strangers, not to mention that they couldn’t carry on that way with the little privacy the ship offered, even if they wanted to.

“I guess,” Spot broke Race’s chaotic thoughts, bringing them to a halt. “What’re going to do with me then?”

“That’s up for Alice-Cora to decide.”

Race dangled the cat in front of Spot, who took her back with a fierce protectiveness. “You just combining her name now?”

“Don’t want to disregard the captain, but Cora has a nice ring to it,” Race bounced on his feet, relieved that the moment from earlier was dissipating.

Spot’s face broke into a rare grin and he kissed the cat on the top of the head before setting her down. She blinked at the two before running off, Race watching the empty space until he noticed Spot was already walking away.

“You’re a handful,” Race sighed, bumping into Spot to let him know he was indeed following. 

“Yet you’re still here,” Spot shot back.

“Why not?” Race shrugged. “Can’t turn my nose up at every stranger I meet.”

Spot laughed a little at this and Race looked on in surprise. 

“Yeah, we’re just strangers.”

Race didn’t appreciate the tone, but he made no move to question it. Spot seemed to be deep in thought and Race knew best than to interrupt it. Again, Spot walked Race to his door, their goodbye merely a respective nod. 

When Race got inside, he leaned against the door, staring at the wood. He couldn’t explain what was happening between him and Spot, but it felt warm. He turned to the room, expecting the stares of Mush and Blink, but it was empty, leaving Race to lay on his bed and stare at everything that surrounded him. 

America was suddenly taking a step to the background and all Race could see was Spot’s face.

~

“It’s cold,” Race shivered, wrapping his coat tighter around his body. “Why’d we have to come up here in the middle of the night?”

“Less people,” Spot explained. “The ship’s crew don’t care what we do out here. Anyway, we’re just looking at the stars.”

Race glanced up at the vast sky above them, not a cloud to be seen. The glimmer of the stars was breathtaking, but Race was losing his breath for an entirely other reason. 

“If New York is like this, I’m following Blink and Mush out west.”

Spot rolled his eyes, shuffling closer to Race. “You really that cold?”

Before Race could answer, Spot had draped an arm around Race, pulling him in until their sides were pressed together. Spot wasn’t much warmer, but it was warmth nonetheless. Race stared at Spot, but Spot’s gaze was stuck on the sky as if there was nothing to this.

“You got a favorite?” Race followed Spot’s gaze up again, noticing familiar shapes from the tales he grew up on.

“That one,” Spot pointed up at a group of stars. “The Three Kings.”

“I like them too.”

Spot turned to Race and their faces were suddenly much closer than before. Spot’s breath was gentle on his face, Race falling into the eyes that stared so deeply at him. Then, Spot was looking back at the stars and Race felt a moment was lost. 

“Are you all alone?” Race blurted out and he winced.

“No,” Spot shook his head. “I’ve got you. That counts for something.”

Race furrowed his brows, trying to decipher Spot’s message. He thought them friends, but there was still a wall there, a barrier he dared not cross. 

“Otherwise, yes,” Spot sighed. “Family’s dead, I got nothing but the clothes on my back. I’m guessing your story’s the same?”

Race nodded, trying to ignore the way Spot’s fingers traced circles on his shoulder. He had run away from the orphanage, did all he could just to survive another day. Race was surprised he had made it as far as he did. 

“We’ll have a new start in America,” Spot spoke with a sudden softness. “That’s all I want.”

A familiar question raged in Race’s mind. He wanted to know Spot’s past, but considering how badly he had handled Spot’s first confession, Race wasn’t sure if he wanted to know more than the Spot next to him. 

“My father was unhappy,” Spot’s voice was shaking. “Threw my brother down the stairs when he was just a baby. We buried him by the river.”

Race grabbed hold of Spot’s hand, his breath hitching. 

“Then, my mother got sick and when my father came after me, I stabbed him with the kitchen knife. I hadn’t meant to...I…I wanted to protect my mother...”

Tears were rolling down Spot’s face, an inconsolable guilt consuming him. His shoulder were shaking and Race saw no other option than to wrap Spot in a hug. Spot sobbed into Race’s shoulder, gripping onto him as if Race was the only thing keeping him standing. 

“I’m a murderer,” Spot choked out. “I let everyone in my family die.”

“Spot, no,” Race pulled back, holding Spot’s face in his hands. “None of their deaths are your fault. You were young, you did what you had to.”

“But they–” Spot babbled some more, words Race couldn’t understand, others Race couldn’t respond to. 

It was a sadness so unique on its own and Race pressed his forehead against Spot’s. “You’re a good person, Spot. You’ve gone through everything and more, but there’s no evil in you. Not a speck.”

Spot tried to shake his head, but Race held it in place. “I’m going to keep telling you this. I ain’t going to leave you until you believe me.”

“That a promise?” Spot finally spoke, his watery eyes piercing right into Race’s own.

“Cross my heart,” Race breathed and the two fell into another hug. 

When Spot’s tears subsided, he was sheepish, embarrassed as they walked back down to their rooms. 

“You won’t, um…” Spot began slowly and Race was quick to interrupt.

“What happened tonight was ours alone,” Race nodded.

The two departed in silence and Race crept into his room, setting himself gently down on the bed. Despite the fact that it was Spot who had done all the crying, Race was exhausted and he didn’t stop his tired mind from drifting off until he fell into a dreamless sleep.

~

Race wished he had a little more notice, but it was too late and he was thrust into the party, jostled around by drunks and excited folk alike. 

The music was lively, but it was much too crowded for Race’s liking. He enjoyed having his space while he danced. He sat to the side with Blink and Mush, the three of them nursing whatever drinks had been thrust into their hands. Despite the different languages, cultures, everyone was getting along like a little village tucked away in the bottom of the ship. 

“Race, come dance!” 

Race’s drink was taken from his hands and he was pulled from his feet, staring at the unbelievable smiling face of Spot. He spun Race around before the two found a rhythm, Race still trying to figure out how he had gone from sitting on a barrel to dancing in the middle of the room with Spot.

Falling easily into laughter, Race held onto Spot, arms wrapped around his neck while Spot had taken hold of his waist. The joy in the room was contagious, but at the same time, Race only saw Spot. By the fourth song, Race was winded and he was grateful for Spot’s tugging hand, the two squeezing out of the room and into an empty hallway. 

“I haven’t felt this good in a while,” Spot grinned, still leading Race turn after turn. “Well, if we’re not counting the days with you.”

“What does that mean?” Race teased and it was then he found his back against a wall, Spot’s face hovering before his own.

“I still have that favor,” Spot spoke low, his hands lightly wrapping around Race’s wrists. 

Race swallowed, an excitement bubbling up in him. “Is that so?”

Before Spot could answer, Race shot forward, capturing Spot’s lips with his own. Spot was quick to push back, their hands tangling before Spot lifted Race’s arms so that he was pressed even more against the wall. Spot squeezed Race’s hands and their kiss deepened, Race’s knees shaking as his mind caught up to his body. 

“I’m sorry,” Spot pulled back. “I shouldn’t have asked this of you. It’ll just make our lives harder and–”

Race silenced Spot with another kiss, a small noise of surprise leaving Spot. “You didn’t ask anything of me. I want this as much as you do.”

Spot’s face washed over with relief and tucked his face into the crook of Race’s neck. “Come with me when the boat lands.”

“That was my plan,” Race whispered. 

The two fell into their embrace again, the world around them forgotten. All that mattered was the emotions, the physicality, that fate had brought them together in a way neither could have imagined.

**Author's Note:**

> might write a more concrete ending if inspired to do so 
> 
> also i'm gonna reply to comments soon i promise
> 
> [Tumblr](http://safarikalamari.tumblr.com)


End file.
